


A Cloak and Dagger Affair

by vintagelilacs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Banter, Brothels, Canon Era, Love Confessions, M/M, Merlin is not observant, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24071566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagelilacs/pseuds/vintagelilacs
Summary: When Merlin tails Arthur to a building located in the seedier part of the lower town, it never occurs to him that the establishment is a brothel. Or that Arthur journeyed there with a particular goal in mind.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 366





	A Cloak and Dagger Affair

Every muscle in Merlin's body screamed at him and it was barely past midday. Usually his chores were manageable, thanks to the aid of his magic, but on instances like today, when Arthur lingered in his chambers and was present while Merlin cleaned, he had to resort to manual labour to accomplish his assigned duties. That meant cleaning out the hearth, sweeping the floors, making the bed, dusting the shelves, polishing Arthur's armour, and carrying out Arthur's every sadistic whim while playing therapist for him. 

Arthur had been droning on about how extraordinarily difficult it was being wealthy and privileged for the past ten minutes, but for once, Merlin was too tired to provide any input. His eyelids drooped. Would Arthur notice if he took a brief nap? He seemed wholly focused on whatever it was he was pontificating about. As long as Merlin didn't snore, he could probably rest his eyes. 

His lids fells shut.

“Oh, and Merlin?”

“Hm?” He jerked his head up and resumed polishing Arthur's breastplate. 

“You can have the evening off.”

Merlin whipped his head around. That had certainly garnered his attention. “You’re giving me the evening off?” 

“That’s what I just said,” Arthur huffed. “Perhaps you can use this evening to work on improving your listening skills.”

Merlin felt wide awake now. In all the time that he'd been employed, Arthur had never given him the evening off, not unless Gaius specially requested his assistance with a different chore or he had a very good excuse prepared. Most days Merlin had to beg and grovel for even a few moments to himself. He also knew from experience that aristocrats didn’t believe in the concept of acting from the kindness of their hearts. Everything—even charity—was a transaction for them. They never parted with their coin unless it could curry favour or improve their reputation, and if they performed a task to help someone, it was expected the favour would be collected at a later date. “This is... uncharacteristically generous of you, sire.”

Arthur scowled at the suspicion embedded in his tone. “I’m _always_ generous,” he grumbled. “But I must say I’m surprised you’re not jumping for joy right now. Weren’t you complaining just last night how overworked you are?”

“I’m always complaining,” Merlin said unthinkingly. 

“That you are.” Arthur’s lips quirked. “Which is why I’m surprised you aren’t more pleased.” 

“Is there some sort of occasion I don’t know about? It’s not ‘Be Kind to Your Manservant Day’, is it?” 

Arthur stalked over and jabbed him in the arm with a gloved fist. Merlin didn't hide his wince. 

“Does that answer your question?” Arthur asked.

_'No, all that tells me is what a brute you are,’_ Merlin griped to himself. "If I have the evening off, what will you do?" 

"I can survive perfectly well without you." 

That was debatable. "I meant, won't you need me to serve you?" 

“As luck would have it, there are no council meetings or feasts to attend, so I thought I’d indulge in a quiet evening in the tavern.” 

“We’re going to the tavern?” They hadn't been to the tavern together in ages; not since the barmaid had brazenly flirted with Merlin, much to Arthur's distress at not being the constant center of attention. 

“ _We_ most certainly are not. I will be going alone.” 

“Can’t I come with you?” 

“You already spend every other day there.” 

Actually, the closest he'd come to spending time at the tavern was when he passed the chipped, rain-weathered sign of the Rising Sun while running errands for Gaius. He hadn't seen its interior in months. Between collecting herbs and thwarting the latest attack on Camelot, he hadn’t had the chance to nurse a pint or gamble or do whatever it was patrons of the Rising Sun typically did. 

Merlin pursed his lips. “Who are you taking with you?” 

Arthur’s breath left him in an impatient whoosh. “Let me reiterate. I am going _alone._ ” 

“You’re not going to bring a guard with you? Or one of the knights? What if something happens?” It would be just Merlin’s luck for a sorcerer to recognize Arthur and seek revenge on the crown while he was inebriated and unaware. 

“Like what?” Arthur asked tiredly. 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe poison?” 

“I think I’ll take my chances.” 

“Why don’t I accompany you part of the way? Or we could both go to the tavern together and then split-off?” 

“I’m only going to say this once.” Arthur leaned in very close. When he exhaled, his breath stirred across Merlin’s face. Merlin forced his gaze to remain on Arthur’s eyes, no matter how tempting his mouth looked. “If I detect any sign that you’ve followed me, I will have you in the stocks for a week. Understood?”

“I understand.” He understood that Arthur was a colossal idiot who should never be left on his own for extended periods of time. 

Arthur dismissed him. Merlin exited the half-tidied room with a lazy bow that Arthur had long since given up on criticizing. Closing the door behind him, Merlin headed to the physician’s quarters. Gaius was out doing his rounds, so Merlin seized the opportunity for a nap. After another hour had past, he whiled the time away scrubbing at old potion stains and reorganizing the shelves. He’d have to do it eventually anyway, and he might as well get a head-start on his chores. He had no intention of spending his evening here. 

He arranged the collection of poisons in alphabetical order, and felt a pang of regret when he spied the jar of hemlock. He'd only used it once, but after seeing the clash of hurt and betrayal on Morgana's face when she realized she'd been poisoned, he didn't intend to ever use it again. He diverted his attention to sweeping the floors, but he drew the line at emptying out the leech tank. That was one task he’d never be caught doing voluntarily. 

When the backdoor creaked open, Merlin nearly pounced on the old healer. “Gaius! I need a potion.” 

Gaius settled wearily into a chair. “And what potion would that be?” 

Merlin deliberated. He was too recognizable as Dragoon, so an ageing potion was out of the question. “One to alter my appearance.” 

“It may take some time. When do you need it by?” 

“Erm… this evening?”

“Merlin,” Gaius admonished. “Must you always wait until the last second?” 

“I didn’t have advance notice. Arthur wants to go to the tavern tonight by himself." 

"And?" 

"He forbade me from accompanying him, but I have to keep an eye on him.” 

“Arthur's hardly an infant," Gaius demurred. "And he’s sneaked out many times over the years. Once more surely won’t hurt.” 

“That was before Morgana put a bounty on his head! He doesn’t even realize he’s in danger and it’s my duty to protect him.” 

Gaius heaved a deep sigh. “When did you become such a worrier?” 

“I’m not a worrier! I’m being realistic. Arthur was being cagey and he should know better than to travel without protection.” 

“Need I remind you that he’s a trained fighter? The best swordsman in Camelot, in fact.” 

Merlin huffed impatiently. “Do you have a potion that will help me, or not?” 

Gaius’ eyes narrowed, and his right eyebrow raised implausibly high on his face. “I’m afraid I have nothing on hand." 

“Fine.” 

“Does that mean you’re dropping it?” Gaius asked. 

Merlin didn’t answer. Arthur was more than his future king or his employer. He was his destiny, and Merlin had learned that destiny wasn’t to be taken lightly. 

“Merlin,” Gaius repeated. “Is there perhaps another reason you’re so intent on following Arthur?” 

Merlin tensed. "What do you mean?"

"The pair of you have been nearly inseparable for a while now. It's not unreasonable for you to be upset at Arthur wanting space." 

"That's ridiculous!" Merlin protested, but inwardly, he had to admit that Gaius was irritatingly astute. That, or Merlin was more transparent than he thought. His concern over Arthur's well-being was sincere, but he was also curious as to the reason for Arthur’s sudden need to get away. And more than a little miffed by the sudden brush-off. 

"You're not still going to follow him, are you?" 

"Of course I am." Merlin threw on an evening cloak. He could feel Gaius’ eyes boring into the back of his head as he all but fled the room. It seemed he would have to rely on stealth and covertness in lieu of a potion. But he could manage just fine. The fact that he wasn't burning on a pyre was a testament to his deceptive prowess. 

Merlin waited in a tiny alcove near Arthur’s chambers. He was confident Arthur hadn't left yet, otherwise the pair of guards stationed on either side of the door was a pointless gesture. 

His suspicion soon proved correct. At last Arthur emerged carrying a distinctive bundle that Merlin had dubbed Arthur’s skulking-around-cloak. Arthur provided some paltry explanation for why he was leaving his chambers to the guards. They were either stupid enough to buy it, or wise enough to know not to question their prince regent. 

Merlin doubted the guards would be as understanding if they happened to catch him following Arthur. He back-tracked and took a different route to the courtyard, beating Arthur by a couple of minutes. Merlin maintained a cautious distance, and ducked behind pillars or other passersby when necessary. 

At several points during his pursuit he lost sight of Arthur, and eventually decided on a tracking spell to ease his efforts. 

To his surprise, Arthur didn't follow the path that led to the Rising Sun. Instead, his perambulations brought them to the seedier side of the lower town. 

Merlin pulled his cloak tighter around himself. The crime rate was higher in this section of Camelot, and black market dealings weren't unheard of, either.

As evening waned into night, the streets thinned. This was both a benefit, as it made it easier to track Arthur's progress, and a hindrance because it made it more difficult for Merlin to hide on the occasions when Arthur glanced over his shoulder. 

They meandered down a succession of streets before arriving at a nondescript, ramshackle building. The windows were boarded up and the shingles on the roof had weathered to a dull grey. Merlin barely managed to duck out of sight when Arthur cast a final glance over his shoulder. By the time Merlin emerged from his hiding spot, Arthur was already inside. 

Merlin mentally recited a list of defensive spells as he approached. The door creaked open. It was indeed a tavern, but it hardly looked like the type of establishment worthy of royalty. 

He slunk inside and immediately scoured the crowd. Most of the patrons were men, and not the friendly-looking sort. Some nursed flagons of mead, while others gambled or arm-wrestled. 

Merlin craned his neck, spotting Arthur's familiar hood. The fabric of the hood glistened from the evening fog. Normally a hooded cloak would make one stand out, but the clientele here all seemed rather shady. What business could Arthur have? Could he be meeting someone? And if so, why was the entire affair so cloak-and-dagger? 

Merlin watched Arthur make his way to the opposite end of the room and ascend the wooden staircase.

If he was meeting someone, he couldn't have picked a more ominous meeting place. Merlin's stomach lurched. The meeting must have been dire for Arthur to agree to meet so far out of the way. Perhaps he'd found someone with information on Morgana's whereabouts or recent doings? The only other alternative he could think of was that Arthur was being blackmailed. In either case, Merlin didn't intend to twiddle his thumbs at the bar stool. 

Merlin darted through the throng of people and danced around chairs and tables, barely managing not to yelp when someone groped his behind. He zapped the unseen offender with a minor spell and hastened up the stairs. 

The hallway was marked with several different doors. There was no sign of Arthur.

Merlin was glad he'd had the foresight to cast the tracking spell when he had, or he would have had to resort to knocking on the doors to find him, or else press his ear against them. 

Instead, he followed the pull of magic and came to a stop at the door at the very end of the hallway. There was a peephole in the wood. It was small and crudely formed, as if it had been unintentional, or perhaps carved by a voyeur. 

"D'ya want a room, or do you just like to watch?" 

"Huh?" Merlin swiveled. A buxom, rosy-cheeked woman winked at him. 

"Don't worry, love. Your secret's safe with me." She disappeared into a different room before Merlin could ask what she was talking about. He shrugged off her strange behaviour and peered through the peephole. His stomach swooped with no small amount of shock at what he saw. 

Arthur was shirtless. And another man was untying the fastenings of his trousers.

Merlin scrambled back so fast that he not only managed to trip over his own feet, but also to bash his elbow into the far wall. A loud, incriminating yelp escaped him. 

Shit. He hoped the walls were soundproof enough that his cry would go unheard. 

He staggered to his feet, rubbing at his bruised elbow. He didn’t know why it was called the ‘funny bone’ when there was nothing funny about injuring it. 

The door rattled open before he could settle on a hiding spot. Arthur’s puzzled—and then distinctly furious—face peeked out. 

“Arthur!” Merlin hoped his smile didn’t resemble the grimace it felt like. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Arthur thundered.

“Ah, um, enjoying my evening off?” 

He could almost see steam rising from Arthur's face. Oh, this was bad. And Merlin was about to be very dead. 

He watched in silent dread as Arthur turned to the other occupant in the room. The man was in a similar state of partial undress. Arthur withdrew a large handful of coins from a bag of money. “Compensation,” he explained, “for wasting your time.” Then, turning to Merlin, he barked, “Come with me!” 

They descended the stairs in silence. Arthur offered a curt nod to the barmaid as he strode for the doors. Only once they were out of range of the tavern—er, brothel—did Arthur break the silence. “You know, I don’t blame you.” 

“Really?” Merlin perked up. 

“I blame myself for having faith in you when I already knew what a complete idiot you are."

Ah, here it comes. 

"It was foolish of me to think you’d ever be capable of following a simple order.” 

The calluses on Merlin's hands and aches in his muscles from carrying out Arthur’s every unreasonable and sadistic demand suggested differently. 

“I mean, good God, Merlin!" Arthur threw his arms up. "I give you the evening off and instead of relaxing in your room or actually going to the Rising Sun, you choose to dog my every step instead.” 

“I was worried about you.” 

“The only one you need to worry about is yourself because once we get back to the castle I’m going to have you hanged.”

“But you’d miss me.” 

“Honestly Merlin, I’m not so sure that I would.”

Merlin faltered, falling out of step with Arthur. He knew Arthur was only speaking out of anger, of which he was definitely entitled to, but the barb still managed to land. “I would never tell anyone about this, you know. I wouldn’t betray you like that.” 

“Of course not. I’d cut out your tongue if you tried.” 

Merlin fiddled with his scarf, a nervous gesture he hadn't managed to quit. "I still don't understand why you were there." 

Arthur’s lips compressed into an impossibly thin line. He glanced side-to-side, and after a moment of deliberation, tugged Merlin into a nearby alley. “Merlin.” Nostril flare. “Let me put this into the simplest terms possible. Once a man reaches a certain age, he develops certain needs.”

“I know what sex is!” Merlin blurted. Contrary to what Arthur might believe, he wasn’t stupid. He knew what the knights got up to on campaigns. He’d even been propositioned by some of them before and, on one occasion, considered saying yes. He never did, though. He didn’t want to imagine what Arthur would say if he heard him, or worse—saw him. He'd never survive the mortification. “What I meant was, I don’t understand why you went _there_.”

Why would Arthur frequent a brothel when nearly every woman—and man, for that matter—who had ever laid eyes on him lusted after him? 

“They have a reputation for being discreet. I always pay a handsome tip to ensure their silence. And it’s not as if many people in this part of town know what I look like.” 

“You’re the prince. Everyone knows what you look like.”

“They might have a vague idea,” he conceded. “But this brothel is one of the few that also offers a, uh, variety in their services.” 

Merlin stared blankly. “Variety?” 

“You’re being intentionally thick today, aren’t you? They have _male_ prostitutes. Which you should have noticed.”

"But why... oh! You mean... you..." Merlin's thoughts felt as sluggish as treacle. It hadn't escaped his notice that the other occupant of Arthur's private room had been a man, but he hadn't realized it had been by request. 

In spite of years of fantasies about Arthur, Merlin had never seriously entertained the possibility that Arthur actually favoured men in that regard. Arthur had always rebuffed flirtation from visiting lords and never expressed any interest in tumbling the knights or male servants. At least, not that Merlin knew of. Though perhaps he didn’t know Arthur as well as he thought.

A dry lump lodged in his throat. Loving Arthur had never been easy or simple. It was often quite painful, but most days the pain was tolerable. Merlin had often consoled himself that the reason his love would never be requited was because Arthur’s sexual and romantic leanings were solely towards women. He’d assured himself that it was no fault of his own, but clearly he was wrong. Arthur was attracted to men, and yet he still didn't want Merlin. 

Arthur's face hadn't relented from its pinched, irritated frown. “Not everyone prefers the opposite sex."

“Thank you, I’m aware,” Merlin replied, hoping his brisk tone concealed the tightness in his throat. 

"Any other questions? Or can we move past this incident and agree to never speak of it again?" 

Merlin, masochist that he was, couldn't get over the incident so easily. “Why would you want to lie with a prostitute? Why not solicit the company of someone you already know?” 

“As I said before, I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“There’s no one you trust enough for this,” Merlin realized. The lump in his throat seemed to expand. “And no one you desire.” Merlin felt queasy. He hadn’t eaten dinner yet, but he didn’t think he’d be able to stomach any solid food at the moment. 

Arthur studied him intently. Merlin tried to keep his expression blank, but he had an unfortunate tendency of wearing his emotions on his face. It was a marvel, really, how adept he was at lying. 

“There is someone,” Arthur began slowly, “whom I’ve desired for some time.” 

“Really? Who?” If it hadn't been for the admission that Arthur preferred the company of men, Merlin would have wagered that he fancied Gwen. 

“It hardly seems fair that I’m the only one being interrogated. What about you, Merlin? Anyone you desire?” 

His heart beat so hard and fast he felt his ribs would bruise. Answering would be a gamble, a risk he didn’t know he could come back from. Maybe if he kept his admission vague enough, he could play it off if Arthur rejected him. 

“Yes,” Merlin began with a tremor in his voice. “But I didn’t right away. More importantly, I didn’t want to fancy him. He was insufferable and arrogant and a complete..." he hesitated. Arthur would know. As soon as he used the word, _their_ special insult, he would know. "...A complete clotpole, but now I want nothing more than to be by his side.” 

He waited for the other shoe to drop, for Arthur’s expression to crinkle into one of disgust, or worse, for him to turn to mockery. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady his breathing as he steeled himself for Arthur's response. 

What would he say? _‘Sorry, Merlin, but bumbling peasants from dirt-poor villages like Ealdor are beneath me’?_ Surely Arthur wouldn’t be that mean about it. It would probably go more like, _‘Oh, er, sorry Merlin, but I don’t see you that way’._ And then Arthur would fix him an awful, pitying look. 

When no reply came, Merlin forced himself to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was Arthur’s face, which was closer than it had been before. He inhaled, but before he could release his nervous breath, Arthur’s lips had moulded to his. A grunt of surprise escaped him. The kiss lasted barely more than a few seconds, barely long enough for him to register what was happening. 

"You kissed me." Merlin's skin crackled with energy, his magic surging to the surface. 

Arthur's eyes were wide. "S-sorry. I thought—" 

Merlin touched a finger to his lips. Arthur had kissed him. Arthur Pendragon had _kissed_ him. "Why did you stop?" 

Arthur didn't require any further invitation. He closed the distance between them. Merlin felt a firm press of warmth against his mouth. It wasn't tentative or brief like their first kiss. Arthur kissed with fierce, carnal intent. His tongue traced over Merlin's lips and forced its way inside his mouth. All the blood in Merlin's body rushed southwards. He was soon dizzy and breathless, but he couldn't imagine breaking the kiss. Instead, he buried a hand in Arthur's golden hair and tugged. Arthur answered by wrapping a muscled arm around his waist and trapping him in an iron grip that he never wanted to be released from. 

Their bodies gravitated closer, until Merlin could feel every slight shift of Arthur's hips, and the hard line of his cock. He gasped aloud at the feel of it. 

Arthur's lips migrated to Merlin's jaw, before dragging hot and wet across his neck. 

Merlin's head thunked against the wall of the alley and he let out a low moan. 

Arthur tore his mouth away. "Fuck, Merlin." 

Merlin made an incoherent noise of confusion. 

"I'm going to come in my trousers if you keep making sounds like that." 

Merlin's chest heaved. He took a moment to survey Arthur, from his dishevelled hair and flushed face to the excited strain of his cock. Merlin struggled to force air back into his lungs at the sight. Arthur was hard. Because of Merlin. "I could, um, you know. If you'd like." 

Arthur raised an amused brow at Merlin's eloquence. 

Merlin flicked his gaze at the bulge visible through the fabric of Arthur's trousers and licked his lips meaningfully. "Since you didn't get anything out of your visit to the brothel, I could—"

"You don't have to," Arthur interrupted. "You're not obligated. And I would never make you do something you don't want to." 

Except shovel manure, wait on him hand and foot, and perform every household labour that existed. "I want to."

Arthur gaze was full of heat. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." He'd only dreamed about having his mouth on Arthur for literal years. "Though I'm not sure I'll be as good as the, um, male prostitute you were going to hire. Seeing as he's a professional. And I'm not, in case you were wondering. But I do have some experience! And I've never heard complaints before." 

"Merlin?"

"Hm?" 

"I think there's a better use for your mouth than talking right now." 

"Right." He tried to quell his nervousness. He'd dreamed of being intimate with Arthur for years, but now that it was actually happening, he was admittedly just the tiniest bit terrified out of his mind. What if his past partners had lied and he was in fact horrid at cock-sucking? This might be his only chance to impress Arthur. If he was bad, Arthur might never want to do anything with him again. 

Sensing his hesitation, Arthur opened his mouth, no doubt to reassure him. Banishing his anxiety from his mind, Merlin dropped to his knees and pressed his open mouth to the cotton bulge. 

Arthur sucked in a hard breath, his hips immediately straining forward. Merlin mouthed at the fabric until it was damp, before carefully untying the fastenings of Arthur's trousers. To Merlin's credit, his hands barely shook and he wrapped them around Arthur's fat cock. He was thicker than any of Merlin's past partners. A bead of wetness welled up at the rosy tip. It felt only natural to lean forward and lap at it. 

Arthur swore under his breath. Merlin lowered his mouth, tonguing at his balls and sucking on them. Arthur's hips jerked forwards, seemingly of their own volition. Emboldened by his reactions, Merlin continued his exploration of Arthur's cock with increased confidence. He traced over the vein on the underside, before sealing his mouth over the ruddy head. He worked his tongue round the defined ridge of his velvety cockhead before hollowing his cheeks and giving it a firm suck. Arthur's hips canted forward. Merlin gave another few sucks before sliding lower. He could feel the throb of Arthur's cock against his tongue, and see the tremble of his thighs as he fought not to thrust forward. 

Merlin slid down to the root and inhaled deep. Arthur's scent was so strong there, it made the strain in his jaw worth it. 

His own cock was painfully hard. He pressed his palm to it to lessen the ache, and pulled off Arthur's cock with a wet pop. He peered up at him through his lashes. "You can fuck my mouth if you'd like." His voice came out as a rasp. 

Arthur cursed loudly. Merlin was silently thankful that the nearby streets appeared deserted. 

"Are you sure?" Arthur's voice was lower than Merlin had ever heard it before. It made a shiver run down his spine. 

He held Arthur's dark gaze. "I want you to." 

Arthur buried his hands in Merlin's hair and gave a tentative thrust into Merlin's eager mouth. After a few hesitant thrusts, he gained confidence that Merlin could handle him. Arthur's cock buried into his mouth. He fucked in and out in deep pumps. Merlin's heart raced. He'd never relinquished control to a partner like this before. He'd never imagined he'd like it so much. 

Merlin's hips bucked hard against his palm, and he fumbled to get a proper grip on his own cock. Arthur's hips bucked, surging even deeper into his mouth. Merlin moaned, and stripped his cock in time with Arthur's thrusts. He could tell Arthur was getting close by the ragged quality of his breathing. His thrusts sped up before he tensed and started to pull back. Merlin's free hand gripped Arthur's cock, holding him in place. He sucked him down. Arthur's hips jerked, and Merlin swallowed every pulse of come. 

His own climax wasn't far off. He twisted his wrist and tightened his grip on his throbbing member. His magic tingled along his skin, every nerve ending alight as his cock spasmed and pulsed. His vision blurred, and he saw gold. 

When he came back to his senses, it was to find Arthur slumped to the ground beside him. Arthur pulled him against his hard chest as they regained their breath. Merlin sagged against him, basking in the warmth and strength of his body.

Arthur nosed along the side of his face. "I can't believe we did that." 

Merlin tensed against him. Did Arthur regret what they'd done? 

"In a public alley, my god." He laughed, the sound bright and full of mirth. It was a laugh that only Merlin seemed capable of eliciting. "Can you imagine if someone found us?" 

"I'm sure they would have enjoyed the view." 

Arthur sobered at the comment. "I don't want anyone else to see you like that. I..." His arms tightened around him. "I want to be the only one." 

Merlin's heart stuttered. "But what about you? Will you still... with other people?" 

"No." Arthur's voice was full of conviction. "I don't want anyone else." 

"Good. Because I don't want anyone else either." He turned in Arthur's lap to press another kiss to his mouth. He meant for it to be a quick peck, but Arthur cupped the back of his head and held him place. The kiss was slow and languid. 

When they pulled apart, Merlin's expression turned mischievous. He pressed his hand to Arthur's clothed chest and dragged his palm down until he located the burlap sack of coins affixed to his person. “Well? Aren't you going to pay me?” he teased. "Since you didn't spend all of your coin at the brothel?"

Arthur snorted. “Don’t be silly, Merlin. I already pay you.” He began to ruffle Merlin’s hair the way he did when they were play-fighting, but partway through, the motion turned gentle. His fingers sifted carefully through Merlin’s dark hair, brushing his bangs aside. "Though I suppose a slight raise may not be entirely out of the question,” he hedged. 

Merlin tucked his face against the crook of Arthur's neck, and pressed a smile against his skin. He'd had a pleasant evening off, after all. Or at least, a pleasant evening of getting off.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated


End file.
